First year of Yonghe.

July fifteenth.

Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and rain poured down.

In the Zheng residence, the study.

Zheng Yu stood with his hands behind his back before the window, facing a thick curtain of rain and mist where nothing could be seen.

Zheng Huantang opened his mouth. “Father?”

Zheng Yu had no reaction, only letting out a heavy sigh.

Zheng Huantang’s heart was instantly gripped with anxiety.

What was wrong with Father?

He’d summoned him here but said nothing for a full hour, just standing there burdened with concerns. Yet yesterday he’d been so happy.

Thinking of yesterday, joy welled up in Zheng Huantang’s heart.

His wife, Lady Zhao, had given birth to a pair of dragon-phoenix twins. The two little ones cried loud enough to shake the heavens the moment they were born. While others took years to have both son and daughter, he’d gotten both at once.

What fortune!

Just then, the figure by the window turned around, his gaze deep as he called out, “A-Tang.”

A-Tang was Zheng Huantang’s childhood name. After he married, Father rarely called him that anymore.

Zheng Huantang’s heart panicked.

He heard something different in that low call. “Father, if your son did something wrong, just say it directly. Beat me or scold me if you must, but don’t bottle it up.”

“My son, I…”

Zheng Huantang began with difficulty, then couldn’t continue.

Zheng Huantang felt he’d guessed something. He swept aside his robe and knelt on both knees.

“Father, don’t listen to that midwife’s nonsense about the Ghost Festival and ghost births. I don’t believe it. Our Zheng family…”

“Kill the younger one.”

“Ah?”

Zheng Huantang’s head shot up, the blood draining completely from his face. “You… what did you say?”

Grief covered Zheng Yu’s face. “Kill your daughter.”

Kill my daughter?

Zheng Huantang’s pupils constricted sharply. “Father, have you gone mad? She’s your granddaughter, my own flesh and blood, my flesh and blood!”

“A-Tang…”

Zheng Yu’s entire body trembled as two lines of hot tears slowly slid from his eyes.

“Rumble—”

Thunder struck Zheng Huantang’s heart. In his twenty years of life, he’d never seen his father’s tears.

A general’s tears…

Zheng Huantang’s mind buzzed as he unconsciously asked, “Father, has something happened?”

“Come with me.”

Zheng Yu dropped this sentence and walked behind the screen.

Zheng Huantang was slightly stunned, then quickly rose and followed.

Behind the screen was a small bedchamber. Though small, it had everything needed—Zheng Yu occasionally rested here.

He walked to the bed and yanked open the curtain. “Look!”

Zheng Huantang rushed forward and was shocked speechless.

On the bed lay swaddling clothes. Inside was a tiny baby, thin as a kitten, with a very pale face and shallow breathing.

“This… whose child is this?”

Zheng Yu closed his eyes. In the rumbling thunder, he spoke in an extremely hoarse voice. “A-Tang, your father in the past…”

He spoke very slowly, each word like a hammer striking Zheng Huantang’s heart.

So that’s how it was.

It was actually like this!

“A-Tang, from now on, she is your daughter.”

Zheng Yu looked at his son, pain in his eyes. “Kill that other child.”

“We cannot kill her!”

Zheng Huantang knelt on the ground, his face full of pleading. “Father, Lady Zhao is meticulous and perceptive. We cannot hide this from her. This is not the most proper solution.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Let me think, let me think.”

“If you devise a good solution, I’ll spare her life. If not, then I, Zheng Yu, will have wronged her.”

“I can, I definitely can.”

Zheng Huantang’s gaze fixed on the tiny infant. He suddenly remembered visiting Water Moon Convent with Lady Zhao several months ago.

“Father, I have an idea…”

…

Half an hour later.

Zheng Huantang carried an umbrella into Haitang Courtyard. A senior maid came out to meet him. “Seventh Master, Seventh Madam just woke.”

“And the two children?”

“They’re nursing now.”

Zheng Huantang: “After they finish nursing, send the children to the master’s study.”

The maid was startled. “This late? Seventh Madam said she wanted to look at the children in a bit.”

Zheng Huantang: “The master has invited monks to divine their fates. We cannot delay even a moment. After they finish eating, have the wet nurse bring them immediately.”

“Yes!”

Zheng Huantang turned and left.

The maid watched Seventh Master’s retreating back, feeling strange. Seventh Master and Seventh Madam were usually as sweet as honey together. Why didn’t the master go see her when she’d just woken?

As she was thinking, she saw Seventh Master turn back with his umbrella.

“Find one of Seventh Madam’s old handkerchiefs and bring me the sewing box.”

Though the maid was completely confused, she assumed it was needed by the monks and quickly brought out the items.

Zheng Huantang took the handkerchief and sewing box and headed straight for the study.

In the study, a single lamp glowed faintly.

Zheng Huantang held the needle in one hand while threading it with the other.

Once threaded, he began embroidering something on the handkerchief. Though his ten thick, long fingers were clumsy as could be, each stitch was sewn with great care.

After finishing, he tucked the handkerchief inside his clothes, then extinguished the lamp and rushed to Zheng Yu’s study.

…

In the study.

Three children lay side by side on the bed. Two had rosy cheeks, one had a pale face, all sleeping deeply.

Zheng Yu picked up one of them and cradled it in his arms.

This old general who had once killed countless enemies and whose name shook the realm lowered his head and nuzzled the infant’s forehead with his face, then handed it to his son.

Zheng Huantang wrapped the infant in white cloth against his chest, then draped on a black cloak and covered it all with a rain cape.

“Father, I’m going.”

Zheng Yu handed his son his authority token. “Be careful in all things. Go quickly and return quickly.”

“Yes!”

Zheng Huantang donned a rain hat and rushed into the night.

The night was ink-dark, the rain gradually lessening. The old general stood under the eaves for a long while, his face showing the killing intent only seen on battlefields.

“Next, we must handle those people in Haitang Courtyard. Not one can remain!”

…

In wind and rain, Zheng Huantang rode to the west city gate. He showed his token to the guards. Seeing it was Old General Zheng’s token, they opened the gate without a word.

Zheng Huantang leapt through and headed straight for Water Moon Convent.

When he reached the convent gate, the sky remained dark.

He unwrapped the white cloth and held the infant in his arms, using his gaze to trace every inch of the baby’s features.

Zheng Huantang looked for a long while, then freed one hand to take out the handkerchief from inside his clothes, carefully tucking it into the swaddling.

This handkerchief was his private sentiment. Father didn’t even know about it.

“Child, your name is Zheng Zhuxī. You are my daughter, Zheng Huantang’s daughter. I…”

His voice choked. He could say no more. He quickly walked to the convent gate and placed the swaddling on the ground.

Zheng Huantang didn’t dare look even once more. He turned and left.

He led his horse into the trees, then returned to the convent gate, hiding behind a large tree, his eyes fixed on the swaddling on the ground.

The sky gradually brightened. Finally, the convent gate creaked open and a fair-skinned nun walked out.

The fair nun picked up the swaddling from the ground and looked around. Suddenly, the baby girl in the swaddling burst into loud crying.

The nun soothed her while looking around again. Seeing no one, she sighed softly and turned to enter the convent.

Behind the tree.

Tears streamed down Zheng Huantang’s face.